Lost
by macgyvershe
Summary: one shot. Sherlock is lost and John isn't there to help him. What is going on and where the hell is John?


**Lost**

Sherlock awoke on the hard floor. He felt stiff and sore but otherwise okay. He was in a darkened corridor.

"John?" His mind was blank and he struggled to remember where he was. "John?" He let out a deep sigh and pushed himself up to a sitting position.

He'd been with John. John was always there at his side. Destroy or be destroyed; the thought came to him. The words clear. His mind reeled and his senses were dampened and dull.

"John, where are you?" He took deep breaths and gathered his legs beneath him to stand. Standing he found himself weak and a bit shaky. Steadying himself against the wall of the corridor he started to walk in one direction. These corridors seemed familiar yet not. There was a distinct perception of déjà vu. "John, can you hear me?" It was imperative that he find his only friend.

(+(+(+(

Greg and John sat in the snack shop. They had finished their tea long ago and looked vacantly at their empty cups.

"What can we do," Greg asked?

"Nothing," John answered. "Everything's being done that can be done."

"I feel so helpless, John."

"I know it's difficult, this waiting and watching. It's all terrible stuff. I'm going back in. I'll text you if things change."

John got up and walked away. Greg knew that it was a thankless task, the watching and waiting.

(+(+(+(+(+

Sherlock kept walking; it seemed he'd been doing that for a long time. Yet he wasn't thirsty or hungry neither cold nor hot. There was nothing to distinguish one place in the corridor from the next. He wasn't tired but he was confused.

"John, please," Sherlock said. There was a trace of anxiety in his voice. From somewhere a whisper comes and someone squeezes his left hand. A strong, small familiar hand that he knows is John's.

"I'm here." John's voice came super softly as if he was a universe away.

Sherlock leans against the wall of the tunnel and lets his knees soften so that he slides to the ground. His left hand becomes his life.

"John," Sherlock puts all his energy into caressing John's hand, moving his thumb over the surface of John's well worn skin.

John's thumb gently glides over the back of Sherlock's hand and Sherlock shutters with tremors of satisfaction.

"Think Sherlock, what is happening here? You can work this out. Look at the facts." Sherlock speaks to himself. Breathing deeply he clears his mind. "Light," he commands of nothing and no one. The corridor illuminates with a radiance that banishes all shadows. Sherlock breathes a long sigh. "Central core," he says confidently.

He is no longer in the corridor but now resides in the central core of his Thought Place. He grips John's hand and breathing deeply he opens his crystal blue electric eyes.

John, who has been sitting at Sherlock's bed side in the hospital for some time now, rises from his chair. His happiness overwhelms him, his smile broadens and he lets out a long held breath of concern over his comatose friend.

"Water," Sherlock uses a voice that hasn't spoke for a while.

John offers him a sip of water that tastes like heaven.

"Tell me," Sherlock looks at his only friend expecting a full report.

"We were attacked by the bad guys. You deflected a bullet with your massive intellect, but luckily for us it merely grazed your harder-than-rocks-skull and scrambled you idiot brain.

"I was lost John. I was looking for you," Sherlock smiles, happy to be smiling, happier still to see John's beautiful face.

"I've been right here, Sherlock, right here waiting for you to come back to me."

"Your presence made all the difference, John. Your touch helped me find my way home."

"You know this means I'm going to have to train you not to endanger your life ever again, do you want a rolled newspaper to the nose or shall I jerk your chain?" John says with a look of a Sherlock whisperer on his face.

Sherlock reaches for his long and elegant neck; they both laugh and Sherlock finds moisture accumulating in his eyes. Tears of joy? He'll never tell.


End file.
